


Between the Bars

by randi2204



Series: The Bars [1]
Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-12
Updated: 2011-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:12:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/pseuds/randi2204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone can't sleep, and someone else is sneaking into the jail in the dead of night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Bars

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All MGM, Mirisch and Trilogy. Not mine, no money.

JD stared up at the dark ceiling, very impatiently waiting to fall back to sleep.

 

Sleep wasn’t being cooperative.  _An’ I was so tired before_ , he thought, sighing loudly.  _Shouldn’t have taken that nap this afternoon.  Guess I won’t listen to Buck next time.  Buck needs a nap so he can rest up for… what he does at night._ JD’s thoughts skittered away from what Buck was probably doing just then, because thinking about Buck doing… _that_ made him think about _himself_ doing… _that_.  And with whom.

 

Which was trouble enough all on its own.  He sighed again.  _An’ not only would Casey punch me… or push me into the fishin’ hole… but  then Miz Nettie would be after me with her gun, and I’d have Chris an’ Nathan an’ Josiah all comin’ down on me…_   He rubbed his eyes and sat up.  _I guess I ain’t gettin’ no sleep now anyway._

 

He had just pulled on his vest when movement from the street caught his eye.  He stepped into the shadows, just in case someone was looking up, thankful that his room was on the second floor of the boarding house, and that the moon was nearly full.  He leaned forward just enough to peer through the window pane.

 

Yes, there were two figures, just entering the jail.  A moment later, he could just make out a faint golden glow through the doorway before it disappeared.

 

JD frowned.  They didn’t have any prisoners – Judge Travis had been through just last week, and he was always a powerful strong reminder about doing wrong and facing the consequences.  But not having prisoners meant no one needed to be at the jail, and even if they _had_ someone in one of the cells, there’d be someone there all the time to watch over them; no one would be going to the jail _now_.

 

 _But who’d be sneaking_ into _the jail?_ he asked himself, strapping on his guns.  _‘Specially this time of night?_   Curiosity spurred him on down the stairs and out the door.

 

As he strode along the street toward the jail, he stepped carefully, trying to remember what Vin had told him about sneakin’ up on someone.  As he walked, he thought about the flash of movement he’d seen.  Something about how the figure had walked had been familiar.  _Might be one of the others,_ he thought, slowing down as he neared the jail.  _Prob’ly wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a look before bargin’ in._

 

He hoped one of the others would be proud of him for thinking of that.

 

“… won the cut, Mister Larabee.  Please do not keep me in suspense any longer as to your decision.”

 

JD stopped on hearing the drawl.   _Ezra?_ he thought, confused.  _And Chris?  Come to think of it,_ he realized, _it_ did _kinda look like Chris crossin’ the street.  So what’re they doin’ here?_

 

“I _asked_ if you got the keys, Ezra.”  Chris’s voice wasn’t quite as flat as it usually was when he was talking to Ezra.  Interest definitely piqued, JD made his way to the back of the jail.

 

Ezra huffed.  “Yes, sir, I have the keys, both to the manacles and the cells.”  The keys for the cells chimed, and JD guessed Ezra must have held them up.  “Now, if you’d be so kind as to tell me which option you’ve selected…”

 

Stretching, JD peeked through one of the barred windows at the back of the jail.  The lantern had been lit, and hung on the support post for the roof, where the keys usually were when someone was in the cells.  It gave a soft circle of golden light, more than enough for him to see Ezra twirling the keys around one finger, while Chris half-sat, half-leaned with his hands braced against the desk, legs stretched out in front of him.

 

“Good.”  Chris flashed a quick grin and straightened.  “Don’t aim to explain to the others why one of us is locked in the cell come mornin’.”

 

 _Locked in the cell?_ JD asked himself.  Confusion didn’t describe it anymore; he was completely… befuddled. 

 

“Oh, I’m sure you could think of something,” Ezra replied, and stopped the keys by catching them in his hand.  He offered them to Chris, wearing a strange, resigned smile.  “It’d be entertainin’ to listen to, anyway.”

 

“I bet it would be, since it ain’t gonna be me givin’ it.” Chris took off his hat, set it on the desk.  “Ain’t you gonna take my gun?” he asked, mouth stretching in a slow smile. He canted the hip where his holster rode toward Ezra.

 

Hand still outstretched with the keys, Ezra stared at him, looking as confused as JD felt.  “Chris?”

 

Even from where he balanced, JD could see how wicked Chris’s grin was.  “Well, wouldn’t be very smart to leave a prisoner with his gun, would it?”

 

 _Prisoner?_ JD’s brows creased in a fierce frown.  _What the hell are they doin’?_

 

He saw the shock spread across Ezra’s face, just for a moment before it cleared and he laughed, a breathy, not-quite-there sound.  The hand with the keys fell to his side.  “I must admit I didn’t foresee this particular outcome,” he murmured.

 

“Bet you didn’t,” Chris offered softly, some of the pure evilness disappearing from his smile.  He eased his stance, just stood by the desk, watching Ezra.  “Ain’t like I never spent a night in jail after bein’ drunk an’ disorderly.”

 

Ezra smiled as slow as Chris had.  “So you are familiar with the procedure, then.”  He took a couple of steps, and JD couldn’t describe it any way other than he _flowed_ right up against Chris somehow, not quite touching him, never looking away from Chris’s face.  “I’ll take your weapon, Mister Larabee,” he said quietly, his hand closing slowly around the butt of Chris’s gun to pull it from the holster.

 

JD distinctly heard Chris’s breath hitch when his pistol came free.  His gaze followed Ezra as he carefully laid the gun on the desk.

 

“Now, I believe it’s time for you to settle yourself in tonight’s accommodations…” Ezra motioned toward the cells. 

 

Instinctively, JD ducked down before they could catch him, then wondered not only at his own actions but those of his friends.  _Somethin’ strange is goin’ on here,_ he thought, hands covering the grips of his guns.  _Never seen either one of ‘em act like_ this _before._

 

Metal grating on metal caught his attention again, and he knew that one of the cell doors had just shut.  Standing on his toes, he peeked back in the cell window.  _Oh, hell,_ he thought, feeling his heart beating a little faster.

 

Chris was standing at the door of the cell, one hand curled around a bar… just in front of the window he was looking in.  _Damnit,_ JD thought, pulling back a little.  Staying where he was wasn’t looking like a good idea.  _But I don’t even dare move, either, ‘cause he’s so close now he’ll hear it…_

 

After a moment, Chris started… stalking.  _That’s the word for it,_ JD decided, _just like that big ol’ lion in the circus back home…_   Chris’s every movement was fluid and controlled, and damn if he didn’t have the very same predator’s air.  His spurs _chinged_ almost musically with each step.  His attention seemed fixed on the sheriff’s desk.

 

Ezra had retreated to the outer part of the jail and sat in that contrary chair, his feet carefully propped up on the corner of the desk.  In his hand he had a deck of cards.  JD had seen him do all manner of amazing things with cards with just one hand, and all the while carrying on a conversation with someone else, but just then, he wasn’t doing anything with it, just holding it.

 

He was staring back at Chris, watching him pace back and forth behind the bars.  His eyes seemed wider than usual somehow, and he wet his lips with his tongue.

 

Whatever was going on here between them, it gave JD a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach.  _Why did Chris go into the cell?  Why is Ezra sittin’ at the desk?  He’s watchin’ him like… like…_ The closest JD could come to what he was seeing was remembering how Buck looked at a girl he wanted to… His mind shied away from that thought, as it always did.

 

Chris had made several passes back and forth, the cell too short for his long stride, before suddenly stopping to grab at one of the bars again.  “What’re you lookin’ at?” he demanded.

 

One side of Ezra’s mouth curled up in something like a smile.  “You, sir.  Of all the prisoners that have been detained here, you are, without a doubt, the most…” Ezra licked his lips again.  “Appealing.”

 

JD could have sworn that Chris _relaxed_ at that.  “That so?”

 

Ezra squared the cards with both hands, the movement taking no thought.  “Yes, Mister Larabee, it is.  But please, don’t let my perusal keep you from… prowling.”

 

Chris snorted, but resumed his pacing, significantly slower now.

 

After a moment, Ezra put the cards down on the desk and stood to remove his coat, draping it over the back of the chair.

 

Again, Chris paused.  This time, it looked like he was leaning against the bars instead of just holding them.  “Looks like you might have a problem there,” he said, his tone rough.  JD had heard it like that before, when they’d been out on the trail chasin’ some stagecoach robbers.  It had been a dusty kind of hell, with not much water and even less sleep.

 

But that couldn’t explain the shiver that ran over Ezra at the sound.  He turned and leaned against the desk, arms folded.  “I fail to see why that’s any concern of yours.”

 

JD was at completely the wrong angle to see what about Ezra had so completely captured Chris’s attention. Like he had so many times, he wished he were taller, tall as Buck, so that he could see properly. And why was Chris breathing faster? Puzzled, he ran his eyes over Ezra, and then had to bite down hard on his lip to keep from making a sound.

 

He’d had… something similar happen to him often enough, so he did know what that bulge in the front of Ezra’s pants was, despite Buck thinking he was some kind of idiot.  _But Ezra never… I mean…it’s like he’s showin’ it off!_   The way he was kind of half-sitting made it seem like he was… _pushing_ it out or something.  JD could feel his face absolutely burning.

 

“I’d say it’s my concern if I’m the one causin’ it.”  Chris shifted his feet a little, still leaning on the cell bars.  “Could take care of that for you,” and _whoa._   When in the _hell_ did Chris start sounding like Buck?  _No,_ JD corrected himself immediately, _I mean_ , _he’s still_ Chris _, but the way that_ sounded…

 

 _What the hell is going on?_   He had no idea; all he knew was that he couldn’t look away.

 

Ezra uncrossed his arms and rested his hands behind him on the desk.  JD heard Chris suck in a breath; the change in position made that swelling appear even more prominent.  “Mister Larabee,” he said, in a _shame-on-you_ tone that just seemed so _wrong_ coming from his mouth, “do you truly believe that I would make such a despicable use of my position as to take advantage of a prisoner while he is under my care?”

 

“Ain’t takin’ advantage when I’m the one suggestin’ it,” and Chris’s voice dropped low, almost husky sounding.  “An’ if it bothers you, you could always just let me go, say I didn’t do nothin’ wrong…”

 

The way Ezra was staring at Chris, it was like to have burnt a hole right through him.  “You do not seem particularly drunk or disorderly to me,” he allowed, his voice losing some of its honeyed charm.  “I could… possibly… see my way to letting you out a little early.”

 

“Got a deal,” Chris rasped.  “Come on over here.”

 

Ezra straightened away from the desk, one hand dipping low to undo the tie-down for his holster, and JD had a perfect view of the shudder than ran down Chris’s back.  In very short order, both Ezra’s gun belt and the rig for his derringer were on the desk beside Chris’s gun, and Ezra was approaching the cell, the keys dangling from one hand.

 

When he was close enough, Chris reached through the bars, fingers ghosting along Ezra’s cheek, then, as Ezra’s lips parted, over his mouth.  Ezra quivered at the touch, eyes closing.  He tilted his head as Chris’s hand drifted down his throat, over the material of his shirt and vest, and JD heard him gasp.

 

“Yeah,” Chris whispered, and his hand went lower still, his own body blocking it from JD’s view, but JD had a real good idea of where it was by the noise Ezra made, the way his hands clutched at the bars.  Metal clattered against metal as the keys struck the bars.

 

JD wasn’t sure how much more he could take before burning up with embarrassment; his face felt like it was about to go up in flames.

 

Then Chris dropped to his knees, both hands through the bars now, rucking up Ezra’s vest to get at the buttons of his pants.  Ezra’s whole body was pressed up against the cell, like he was trying to squeeze himself between the bars, doing anything he could to be closer to Chris.  His breath came faster, too, matching Chris’s.

 

Ezra unwound one of his hands from around the bar, touched the side of Chris’s face, and _oh_.  JD had never seen him wear that expression before, but it looked like how he felt inside when he thought about Casey sometimes. 

 

“Can you…?” Ezra’s voice barely carried to him, even though he and Chris were so close to where JD watched.

 

“Yeah,” Chris replied, tilting his head back a little to look up.  Ezra’s pants gaped open under his hands, held up only by his suspenders.  Ezra trembled again when Chris traced the outline of that bulge through his drawers.  “Just stay there, let me…” His fingers started working the buttons of Ezra’s drawers.

 

 _Oh, God!_ JD managed to tear his eyes away, but they landed instead on Ezra’s hand as it moved from Chris’s face to his hair, weaving into the golden strands, like he was petting that giant cat Chris had resembled…

 

Then Ezra’s head fell back, eyes closed, mouth round, and JD at last found the will to turn around, away from what Chris and Ezra were doing.  He leaned back against the outer wall, shaking a little.  But the sounds followed him, floating through the open window.  Ezra gasped, then groaned softly, and JD knew that Chris had... had taken… _that_ part of Ezra into his mouth.

 

JD squeezed his eyes shut and fought the urge put his hands over his ears as a child would to block out the sounds, because he knew he couldn’t escape; he still heard Ezra’s muttered words – oaths and other things he couldn’t quite make out – the rustle of clothing, the way Chris’s harsh breaths echoed Ezra’s for brief moments…

 

Then Ezra whispered “Chris,” and after all his cursing, it was a prayer, or close enough. 

 

For a long while, there was silence from the jail, broken only by soft panting.  JD started to fidget.  _I ain’t gonna look again,_ he told himself firmly.  _I don’t need to see that… didn’t need to see any of it, an’ I don’t wanna see any more._

 

Except that somehow, he really did.  Carefully, he resumed his previous position, craning his neck to see into the jail.

 

Ezra sagged heavily against the bars of the cell, smiling faintly.  One hand still clutched at one the bars; the other stroked Chris’s hair.  Chris still knelt by the cell door, his hands gripping Ezra’s hips.  His head rested against the bars, for which JD was grateful, because it blocked the sight of Ezra’s open pants.

 

After a moment, Ezra stirred, shifting away from the bars, though his fingers still combed through Chris’s hair.  “Did everything play out the way you thought it might?” he asked in little more than a whisper.

 

JD reeled a little at that.  _This was_ Chris’s _idea?_   Somehow that just didn’t seem...  Then he thought about everything else he’d just seen.

 

Chris hummed and straightened slightly, and JD quickly looked away. “Some things I didn’t count on,” he replied, voice low, “but yeah.”  Then he tugged at Ezra’s pants.  “Now get in here,” he ordered.  “I got a… problem.”

 

Ezra glanced down, and one corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk.  “A most… _pressing_ problem, it would appear.”  He dangled the keys from around his wrist, let them jingle tauntingly.  “Would you like for me to… take care of it the same way?”

 

“Got some ideas,” Chris growled, rising smoothly to his feet.  “Just get in here.”

 

JD slumped down.  _All right, I_ really _don’t need to see anymore…_   The cell door creaked open, the keys fell to the floor with a metallic rattle, then the bunk under the window groaned dangerously loud as two bodies fell on it.  He eased away, hoping they were too… occupied to notice his boots crunching in the dry dirt of the alley.

 

He was halfway back to the boarding house when he realized where he was going and just stopped in the middle of the street.  _I’m not ever going to be able to get back to sleep_ now _,_ he thought, and leaned back against the nearest support post for the boardwalk’s overhang, staring up at the dark sky.  Another horrible thought occurred to him, and he let out a groan to rival that of the bunk only minutes ago.  _How am I gonna be able to look either one of ‘em in the face tomorrow, after seein’ what I saw?_   There was no way he could bluff it out; as Ezra had told him more than once, he didn’t have the face for poker, or lying.

 

The moon moved on, and JD pushed himself back into motion.  _Guess I just gotta pretend it never happened,_ he decided.  _Yeah, it was all just a dream.  Nothing that I saw happenin’ between them at the jail_ really _happened._

 

He knew it probably wouldn’t help him get back to sleep, but somehow, sleep just didn’t seem important anymore.  JD trudged back up to his room and stared at the ceiling for a little longer, and wished a little that he hadn’t gotten up at all.  It was just safer.

 

***

November 19, 2010


End file.
